


apartment 14

by WellyFullOfAle



Series: Robron Week 2017 [4]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Soulmates, finding each other, robron - Freeform, supernatural-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellyFullOfAle/pseuds/WellyFullOfAle
Summary: Robert moves into a new apartment, and feels more at home than ever. But is he alone there?





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I wasn't going to write anything for today because I had a void of imagination but then this little drabble came to me as I was driving home so here it is.

It was the 14th apartment he'd viewed so far.  
  
None of them had felt right; he didn't know why.  
  
There was something about this one though. He'd felt it as soon as he walked through the door. Not that he could explain what _it_ was. A sense of belonging; something verging on a sense of calm, of peace. Of knowing.  
  
This was where he needed to be.  
  
"How come this became available?" he’d asked the estate agent.  
  
This was a sought after area – he knew properties were rarely on the market from this apartment block, and he’d jumped at the opportunity to have a look around as soon as he’d seen the advert go live on the estate agent’s facebook page that morning.  
  
"The owner needed to...move on," he'd replied, and there was something vague about his response which filled Robert with intrigue.  
  
He’d signed the paperwork that afternoon.  
  
He moved in 1 week later.  
  
  
-s-  
  
  
He'd been there a month, and nowhere had felt quite like home. He'd been sleeping better than he ever had done before. He'd been comfortable; happy.  
  
He'd felt the weight roll off his shoulders every time he walked through his front door.  
  
He couldn't ever pinpoint what it was; but he’d known he couldn't get enough of it.  
  
He'd started dreaming - for the first time since he could remember.  
  
There'd been a man, in his dreams.  
  
He'd never met him before – couldn’t recognise his face in his dreams; and yet it had felt like he'd known him forever.

Like he didn’t want to spend a day without him.

Like he’d spent a lifetime in the presence of his deep blue eyes; eyes that were so blue they almost looked out of place amongst his dark features – short, dark hair, almost curly on top - and stubble gracing his face, framing his beautiful smile.

He’d seemed so real.

 

-s-

 

  
He'd started talking to himself. Not in a concerning way. In a natural and healthy way; like he was finally comfortable in his own company.  
  
It had never felt like he was alone, though.  
  
It had always felt like there was someone listening; someone present.  
  
Like there was someone there who’d cared; who’d wanted to know how his day had gone.

He’d talked to them; and he’d been sure he felt them reply.  
  
Maybe not with words, and maybe not in this lifetime; but certainly with the way that they made him feel. Comfortable, relaxed, at ease.   
  
Never alone.  
  
  
-s-  
  
  
His tenancy had been up for renewal after 6 months. The landlord had increased the rent. He hadn’t hesitate in signing the renewal.  
  
He'd realised something.  
  
He'd been away on business plenty of times since he'd moved in. Whenever he hadn’t been in the apartment, the dreams had stopped; the man in them had gone; loneliness had crept back in.  
  
It was this apartment.  
  
Whatever had made him safe; it was in the apartment.  
  
It had made him want to drive a 4 hour commute to a business meeting rather than get a hotel, as he usually would have done.  
  


-s-

 

He’d started getting post.

  
  
He hadn’t known why it had taken 6 months to arrive. Maybe whoever had lived here had only paid to redirect the mail for 6 months.

It had only served to ignite his intrigue further.  
  
  
-s-  
  
  
One night he’d arrived back from work, eager to get himself back into the safety and comfort of his home, and he'd found a young girl sat outside his apartment door. Couldn't have been older than 14.  
  
"Where's Aaron?" she’d asked him, and he'd recognised the name from the post he'd been getting.  
  
"I don't know," he had told her.  
  
He hadn’t known.  
  
But it had felt like he did, somehow.  
  
She'd disappeared, and he'd tried to call her back - felt like he'd needed to know more, needed her to explain more about who Aaron was, why she was looking for him, why it had taken her so long to come.  
  
She hadn't wanted to tell him, so he'd been left with a dozen questions he thought he'd never get the answers to.  
  


-s-  
  
  
He'd never been one for neighbourly interaction. He'd been in the apartment 8 months, and had barely raised a hello to those in his building.  
  
He’d needed information though, so he’d told himself that day was different.  
  
He’d sighed as he knocked on his next door neighbour’s front door.  
  
They hadn't answered.  
  
He’d waited back in his apartment until he heard them arrive, and he’d opened his front door as they were stood in the corridor.  
  
They'd been reluctant to tell him anything.  
  
They'd said there was no good in bringing up the past.  
  
They'd said it would just cause more hurt.  
  
They'd looked sad, and forlorn.  
  
He'd been left with more questions than answers   
  
  
-s-  
  
  
He’d tried to push down the feeling that was starting to bubble up inside of him.  
  
He’d tried to be rational about it.  
  
He’d asked himself what he was really hoping to find.  
  
He’d stayed away on business, in the hope that it would get his head straight.

He’d realised there was something he was missing. _Someone._

He hadn’t understood it, but he’d had to make his way back to the apartment, and when he made it back, he’d felt the weight lift off his shoulders as soon as he closed the door behind him.  


 

-s-  
  


It had been 11 months to the day since he'd moved in.

  
  
There had been a knock at the door.  
  
It had been the estate agent.  
  
There had been a development.

 

-s-

 

He hadn’t wanted to move out.  He’d fought it, but he’d had no legal standing.

He’d been served proper notice, and two months later he was handing the final box over to his sister to take down to his car as he moved out.

He’d taken a moment in the apartment, alone.

Except he hadn’t been alone.

He’d never been alone in that place.

“Bye,” he’d whispered out into the empty room, a part of him unsure what or who he was talking to.

Another part of him had been so sure he’d even wanted to speak his name.

His shoulders had tensed back up; his body reeling with stress as soon as he closed the door behind him.

It had felt like a mistake.

 

 

-s-

 

It had been three months since he’d had to leave.

He hadn’t been able to get the place out of his mind.

He’d stopped sleeping.

He’d stopped dreaming.

He’d stopped picturing that man in his dreams; the one who he’d been with for the whole time in that apartment.

The one who he’d realised made his heart skip a beat and his lips twitch into a smile involuntarily.

There had been no rhyme or reason to it, but it somehow made perfect sense.

He’d been there with him.

He realised it now.

In whatever capacity, and through whatever means, he knew that the man from his dreams had been with him, the whole time he’d lived in that apartment.

He knew it was him listening, the whole time.

He knew it was him that brought on that sense of calm, and peace, and knowing.

He missed him.

 

-s-

 

He’d spent a few weeks thinking it through, telling himself it was a ridiculous thought.

He’d talked himself out of returning to the apartment.

His resolve had weakened; it was always going to.

He was stood outside of the building.

He didn’t know what he was waiting for.

Except he did; if he was honest.

 

-s-

 

“Amazing, really,” his old neighbour had caught him as he’d been about to take a breath and knock on the door of his old apartment.

“What?” he’d answered.

“Your old landlord,” the neighbour had responded, as if he should know exactly what she was talking about. “In a coma the whole time you lived here, doctors gave him next to no chance of recovery. Something must have kept him going, for him to recover like that.”

Something clicked into place in his mind.

The door to his old apartment flung open, before he’d even knocked.

He was stood the other side of it.

_Him._

Deep blue eyes; almost out of place amongst his dark features.

“Aaron,” he’d addressed him.

Not because he was guessing; not because the logic in his brain had added two and two together and made assumption.

Because he _knew_.

He knew it was Aaron.

It had been Aaron all along.

“Robert,” he’d responded, and after the shock had subsided, that beautiful smile appeared, like a ray of sunlight through a broken door.

Robert hadn’t needed to ask him how he knew his name.

Of course he knew.

“It was you,” Robert smiled back at him, and the tension he’d become so used to again disappeared from him. “You were here, all along?”

 

 

-s-

 

It was three days later that Robert moved back in.

He never felt lonely again.


End file.
